


With Great Power...Comes a Great Need to Take a Nap.

by Mercia, Woulddieforbrunnhilde



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Humor, BAMF May Parker (Spider-Man), BAMF Michelle Jones, BAMF Peter Parker, Best Friends, Bisexual Female Character of Color, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Michelle Jones, Bisexual Peter Parker, Domestic Violence, Fire, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, Hospitals, Injury, Major Character Injury, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Ned's Family - Freeform, Non-Graphic Violence, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, POV Third Person, Protective Ned Leeds, Protective Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-01-11 04:15:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18422619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mercia/pseuds/Mercia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woulddieforbrunnhilde/pseuds/Woulddieforbrunnhilde
Summary: He only got about ten minutes of sleep before the S.H.I.T. Button went off.[In which Ned just wants to sleep, and Peter just wants Ned and his family to be safe.]





	1. Chapter 1

There was nothing Ned hated more than doing Algebra after midnight. The sleep deprivation just added to the overall pain of solving unnecessarily complicated equations with the threat of an F hanging over his head. He had spent hours finishing an English project worth way too much of his grade, and he wouldn’t even be done after he finished this worksheet. He had tried to get everything done as fast as possible, but it still took way too long. He kept checking his phone for the time, hoping desperately that he would be able to finish it all before the sun rose. If Mr. Garcia caught him sleeping in class again, he’d be sent to the office. Mom would kill him. It wasn’t until 3 AM that he finally sighed in relief and put his damn homework away and crashed into bed.   
  
He only got about ten minutes of sleep before the S.H.I.T. Button went off. It wasn’t his idea to call it that. Surrounding Hostiles In Ten just spelled out “shit”, and if it went off, he was in it pretty deep. He installed it in Peter’s suit after a group of bank-robbing ninjas had gone after him because they traced a signal from Peter’s suit to his apartment and terrorized his parents before Spidey could get there and beat them up. Surprisingly enough, his parents bought the lie Peter had told them about them having the wrong building, but he really didn’t want to push his luck. If more weird bad-guys came and attacked them, they might get suspicious. If they even survived.   
  
The S.H.I.T. Button was loud. He heard the ear-splitting alarm at about the same time as his parents and the upstairs and downstairs neighbors. He could feel their rage at being awoken at an ungodly hour as they tramped down the hallway and he hurried to turn it off.   
  
“Ned! Is that coming from your room?”, his sister yelled. His mother started banging on his door.   
  
“What the hell is that? What are you doing?”   
  
“Uh... I think it’s a flood warning?”   
  
“A what?!”   
  
He pounded random keys until sweet, sweet silence cleansed his poor eardrums. He made a note to make a few, less deafening adjustments.   
  
“Ned Leeds that was not a flood warning!”   
  
He banged his head against the desk. Now was exactly the wrong time for this.   
  
“Just a computer malfunction. Go back to bed.” He heard his dad mutter something about talking about this in the morning, but finally heard footsteps fading into their bedroom. He jammed on his headset and patched into Peter’s suit. “Peter, what the fuck?” He hissed, trying not to alert his parents.   
  
“I am so sorry. Someone possessed a couple of Mr. Stark’s suits and are targeting a bunch of the Avenger’s family and friends.  You know ‘Livewire’ from Supergirl? Kinda like that.”   
  
Ned sighed. “How soon will they be here?”   
  
“Five minutes, according to-“   
  
CRASH!   
  
“Right now.”   
  
“Dammit.” Ned spat.   
  
“I’ll be there in like, thirty seconds.”

* * *

See, Peter's patrol had started out pretty regular tonight. He'd been swinging through Midtown, near his favourite sandwich shop, stopped a mugging, stopped a burglary, and got free donuts from the local bakery downtown. So, all and all it was pretty normal. Or as normal as things could be as New York's friendly neighbourhood Spiderman.

(Until, of course, it wasn't.)

Look, it was hardly his fault. Mr Stark couldn't be mad, at least not at Peter, since if one really stopped to think about it, it was technically Mr Stark's fault himself.

That was, if one had the time to stop and think about it.

And, well, _technically-technically_ it was whatever evil mastermind this had week concocted’s fault. Either way, it wasn't Peter's.

That was what he was telling himself until S.H.I.T. went down.

He was thirty seconds away from where Ned lived and, it seemed, thirty seconds _too late._ Even with KAREN talking him through the quickest route across the city.

There were several windows smashed and Peter couldn't hear much of anything coming from inside. The lights were off too, so he couldn’t see anything that was going on. He feared the worst. He tuned in to Ned's channel on his earpiece, and listened closely, sticking close to the walls and holding his breath. He couldn't hear anyone speaking, but he could hear breathing, still. It was a start.

“Ned?” he tried, climbing in nimbly near the back windows. “Ned?”.

For three frightening seconds, Ned didn't reply. But there was a hitch in the breathing that was coming through, and then a slight _shhh_. “Pete— I mean— we’re in the bathroom, bottom floor.”

“Okay, buddy. I'm on my way.”

To be perfectly honest, Peter had always found it just a little weird that there was a window in the bathroom at Ned's place (granted, the glass was frosted so it wasn't, like, _weird weird.)_ But now he'd never been more grateful. In the background of Ned's feed, he could hear Mrs. Leeds hissing at her son, _Ned, who are you talking to?_ And his little sister’s barely muffled sobs and Ned's father shushing her gently. And Ned's shaking breath, steadily getting faster in waves before Peter heard him calm himself down.

When Peter made his way to the window he knocked four times, the same little rhythm he and Ned had been using since preschool playing in their little hideouts, and found a gun pointing straight at him.

“Spiderman,” Ned's Dad said, letting out a breath, eyebrows drawn up in surprised.

“Hi,” Peter replied, and tried not to let his voice shake. “I'm here to get you out. We’ll start with the littlest one?” He gestured at Ned's sister, cowering in the corner.

Mr Leeds took a second to take him in. He could imagine his position, handing his family's safety to effectively a stranger. Or, at least, who he thought was a stranger. It wasn't like he had many options, though.

It went like this:

Ned's house was near enough to the local library, which meant three things things; it was close by and convenient, Mr Stark would know where it is so KAREN could tell him and he could _come help sort S.H.I.T. out_ , there were plenty of fancy decorative features from local artists which made handy things to hide behind. It went pretty smoothly at first. Peter had grabbed Ned's sister and had deposited her safely behind a colourful junk sculpture that had been there for a year already, but nobody knew what it was still, least of all the artist. The plan had been Ned's sister first, then his mother (because it was a little known fact that Mrs. Leeds was, in fact, three months pregnant) then Ned himself, and then his father. So Peter had dropped the littlest Leeds off first and then returned.

He got Mrs Leeds to the library fine.

There were several things to note upon his return from dropping off Mrs. Leeds at the library. But it was hard for Peter to note these things because there was so much smoke. Fumes rose from the window where he’d been perched just minutes ago, helping two of four Leeds out. It rose up slowly, almost mockingly gentle in how it mingled through the air, diluting both the shadows the night casted over the city and the neon glow shop signs. It made Peter’s eyes sting, even through his mask, and a thick bitterness filled his lungs.

And there were still two Leeds to get out of the house. And, at least two, according to KAREN, rogue Iron man suits. Perhaps this time he would be able to lecture Mr. Stark instead.

Not the time.

“Peter,” KAREN spoke in his ears, sounding much too calm because Ned was somewhere here and anything could have happened and _why hadn’t he been quicker?!_ “Your heart rate has gone up, and you are inhaling smoke. If you do not leave the premises soon, the lack of oxygen in the air may cause you permanent damage.”

Peter ignored her. “Ned?” he called once again through the line. This time, instead of Ned’s breath, he heard only static.

Somewhere in the house he could still hear S.H.I.T. blaring away, triggered again, over all the chaos. He couldn’t tell where the fire was coming from, other than everywhere, and he didn’t know where to look for Ned or his father, because they weren’t outside. He would have seen them otherwise.

“KAREN scan for life,” Peter said, using as little words possible. He needed to save his words, his breath. For Ned, if nothing else.

After all, Ned was always there for him.

“There are currently two people in what I believe to be Ned’s room. There is also two Iron man suits in its close proximity.”

Fuck.

It wasn’t far at all from the bathroom to Ned’s room, just ten paces across the landing. There was smoke, and fire and Peter couldn’t see except from the flames getting brighter and brighter, and the smoke curling up and seeping through everything, and two red and gold, indistinct figures, metal glinting in the light of the fire. The top half of Ned’s door was already blown off, just the same as the door of the bathroom. Chips of splintered wood catching on the embers already. And Ned’s channel still only fed back static, white noise.

Three things happened, simultaneously. _One_ , Peter launched himself at the closest suit, a stream of webbing flying from his wrists, him kicking it down and tearing its head clean off before whoever it was behind the controls had time to react. _Two_ , the second half of Ned’s door got blown off, Ned’s panicked eyes met his through the lenses of the Spiderman suit, his father was on the ground lying unconscious. _Three_ , the Iron man suit turned it’s repulsors towards its real target.

But Peter was only paying attention to two of these three things. After all, Mr. Leeds was unconscious, probably from smoke inhalation, or from that door’s last stand, and Peter had to get him _out._ After all, there was so much smoke and Peter could hardly breathe, let alone _think._ Of course he had gone to pick the man up and sling his arm over his shoulder. Of course.

And, _of course,_ he hadn’t noticed the second suit turning towards its real target, him.

Honestly, Peter had been surviving on luck for so long. Everytime he swung and his webs caught him, everytime he realised he was _just_ strong enough to survive a building collapsing on him, Everytime his spidey sense or KAREN told him to duck. Right down to his encounter with a radioactive spider.

And there was probably a saying somewhere, or if there wasn’t, Peter was making it now. Anyway, all luck ran out, eventually.

That wouldn’t be today, though.

“Peter, _watch out!”_

Despite how loudly S.H.I.T. was still wailing, a sort of high pitched screech, Ned’s voice still rang clear. As did the sound of the blast. As did the sound of Ned’s body hitting the ground.

* * *

 

Ned woke up.

His sheets were scratchier than he was used to, but the room wasn’t as cold as usual, and it was much whiter _._ There was a steady beeping sound, coming from...somewhere, which wasn’t from his alarm clock, because Ned knew his alarm was much more annoying than that. He also couldn’t move or, at least, everything hurt when he did. Everything hurt when he didn’t too.

Unlike Peter, Ned wasn’t used to waking up in unfamiliar places.

He took a breath and tried his best to move his head.

Okay. Okay. Okay.

From context clues — including himself because _everything hurt god fucking damn it_ , he was wearing a _breathing mask_ — he was in a hospital. Or some medical place, at least.

Peter was asleep in a chair next to his bed, hunched over. He looked peaceful when he slept. Weird. He never was that calm when he was awake. Occupational hazard, he guessed.

Peter jerked up, before locking eyes with Ned and then bear-hugging him so hard Ned was only sixty percent sure his spine wasn’t gonna shatter. Finally, Peter pulled away, and while making direct eye-contact with a shit-eating grin stage-whispered “You drool when you sleep.” Ned mustered up enough energy to hit him with a pillow.

“Very funny Annabeth. How long have you been holding on to that one?"

“Twelve hours. That’s how long you’ve been out.”

“Jeez! Don’t we have school?”

“Your priorities suck, dude.”

“I’ve got a math test! It’s worth almost half my grade!”

Peter put his elbow down on Ned’s chest, keeping him from scrambling up. “You are in no shape to get outta bed. Doc Temple says you gotta stay down for like, the next couple of days. You had the tar beaten out of you by an Iron Man suit. It’s a miracle you survived.”

“I…”

“You could’ve died, Ned. It would’ve been my fault. That crazy electricity guy found you, and he might’ve killed you and your family if I hadn’t gotten him. Now. You are gonna stay down, and M.J. and I’ll bring you homework. I will web you to this stretcher if I have to. That stuff won’t break, and it’ll be really embarrassing. Do I have to do that?”

“No” Ned mumbled.

“Good. Your folks are fine, but your mom is yelling at Tony for letting the dude hack his suits. Your dad is being detained by security because he one-hit K.O.’d Tony, I have it on video, he totally deserved it. Dara is outside, playing on my phone. Also, M.J. knows I’m Spider-Man.”

“What?! Dad did what? M.J. knows? How?”

“Yeah it was really funny. Pops was yelling so fast I had no clue what he was even saying and then he just flat out decked him. Then M.J. just showed up and yelled at me for putting you in danger, I suck, yadda yadda yadda, and is planning on yelling at the both of us for being stupid in like, three minutes.”

Ned just shook his head.

“And again, I am so sorry for this. He got into my suit long enough that he got your location and apartment number. After you went down, I managed to web up the suits enough that they couldn’t blast anyone, and then Tony showed up and powered them down. One flew all the way out to Hawkeye’s place, but just got like eighty arrows to the face, so they were fine. Your parents just think Mr. Stark was being irresponsible again, so they have no clue about me.”

“Ok.”

“Just ok? C’mon, yell at me. I screwed up and you guys got your apartment trashed. Why aren’t you pissed?”

“How was this your fault? Some nutso got their hands on really bad tech, and this happened. Dude, this is normal. This is actually the third time my house was destroyed by super-villains. Business as usual, the insurance will cover it.”

“I’m still mad at myself though. You guys could have gotten seriously hurt.”

“Good. Next time you’ll get everyone out faster, and beat the crap out of the baddie harder. You can’t do that if you’re beating yourself up, so quit the pity-party.”

“Thanks Ned.”

“You’re welcome. Now I charge a one Dad-punching-Tony-freaking-Stark-video tax per pep talk, so you better send that to me, got it?”

“Deal.”


	2. Chapter 2

M.J. yawned. Loudly. 

“Hey, don’t you yawn at me! Peraltiago is the greatest ship of all time. The dynamics between the two actually worked, and they were funny, even if everyone knew they were gonna get together. Unlike a ton of mainstream couples — oh, hey Ned — they weren’t boring, and it wasn’t too predictable or forced.”

M.J. and Peter walked down the hallway to the cafeteria bickering, as Ned unsuccessfully tried to sneak up on Peter. 

“How do you do that, man? It’s creepy.”

“Spidey-sense. Try doing it to M.J., maybe she won’t hear you coming from like, a mile away.”

“Sneak up behind me and I will punch you in the throat.”

“Don’t try doing it to M.J., your poor trachea has gone through enough.”

“Oh, speaking of which, whatever happened to the electro-guy? Does he have a name?” Ned asked.

“Yeah. Electro.”

“That’s dumb.”

“Thank you for sharing your thoughts, M.J. Now, for the final showdown: Ned, which is the greatest ship of all time, Peraltiago or Catradora?”

“Hey, Penis Parker!”

“I’m gonna go with Flash Thompson and about eight tons of cow manure.” 

“Good call.”

“Uh, guys?”

“What’s up, M.J.?” Peter asked. 

M.J. looked a little nervous, which was unusual, to say the least. 

“Listen. My parents are having this boring business party tonight. My house is gonna be packed and I don’t feel like hiding out in my room for hours. They want me to bring some friends. Can you make it?”

“Sure. It’s a weeknight. I’ll ask Aunt May, but she’ll probably say yes. What time?”

“Eight. And Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Bring your badly behaved rabbit.”

 

 

Peter’s mind was racing. He’d caught the Harry Potter reference. Was M.J. in some sort of trouble? Were her parents? She wanted him to bring the suit along. He’d have pulled her aside, had she not disappeared almost immediately afterwards. He hadn’t paid attention in any of his classes; he needed a plan. 

Mr. Stark would want to know. 

But what if it was nothing and Mr. Stark wouldn’t believe him next time? Goddamnit, he’d learned literally nothing since Homecoming. 

He was doing this. 

He wore the suit under a nice shirt, pants, and socks. He was wearing KAREN in an earpiece. He stuffed his mask in his back pocket and checked himself out in the mirror. Not bad. The mask looked weird and bunchy though. 

Then it hit him. Ned. He yanked his phone out of his bag and texted him:

"Did you know what she was talking about?"

"Like, bring the suit?" 

"With the party tonite?"

Thankfully, Ned answered straightaway.

"Duh." 

"She wasn’t being subtle"

"I have a TASER."

"And a really big knife"

"Should I even come? What if it’s a trap?"

Peter thought for a second before replying. 

"I think she needs our help."

"She asked for both of us." 

"Bring the TASER. Not the knife. I’m wearing the suit under my suit."

His phone buzzed with one last text alert:

"Be careful." 

He smiled. 

"I will."

May was suspicious. He’d never gone to the kind of party before. Apparently the address he gave her was in a really fancy part of town. Like, really fancy. But she drove him anyway and, while they were on the road to pick Ned up, she finally asked the question.

“Is this a Spider-Boy thing?”

“Spider-Man.”

“Answer the question.”

“I don’t know.”

“Whaddya mean, you don’t know?”

“M.J. needed some backup. There might be some really shady stuff going on. I’m not sure.” 

May sighed. “If I turn this car around, are you going to hop out the back and run there?”

Peter pulled his arm out of the backseat and shrugged guiltily.

“That’s what I thought. What can I do to help you?”

“You’re gonna let me do this?”

“I don’t have much of a choice. I’ll be waiting with the car around the block. Give me an earpiece. The minute you have to high-tail it outta there, I’ll getaway drive you.”

“Do I want to know—“

“Nope. Go get him,” she said as she pulled up by Ned’s building. 

Peter opened up the door and Ned hopped in. 

“Ned?”

“What’s up, Aunt May?”

“That’s one cheapass TASER you’re trying to hide from me. Take this one, it’s a lot smaller, but it’s way better quality. Don’t lose it.”

“Ok,” Ned squeaked and took it.

They drove in silence, and Ned tried his best not to look like a deer in headlights. He wasn’t expecting for May to see through him like that. What if whatever bad-guys there were saw through him like that too? What if they walked in and got ambushed? 

There wasn’t time for that, as May was parking the car, and Peter was unbuckling his seatbelt. Ned hurried to do the same. They all put in comms and, before Ned knew it, he was walking up the steps, into the lobby of M.J.’s apartment building. 

Peter had never actually been here before.

The place was swanky. People in nice clothes were everywhere, and there was even a lemon-water dispenser next to a bunch of plastic cups. Apparently, M.J. was rich.   
He and Ned kind of awkwardly just wandered around before M.J. finally spotted them and waved them over. She pulled Peter into an uncharacteristic embrace and whispered into his ear.

“Do you have the suit?”

Peter nodded and M.J. visibly relaxed. 

“Ok. Come with me, both of you. Sorry, I was worried I was being, like, way too subtle but whatever.”

“What’s going on? Who do I need to fight? Are you ok?”

M.J. put her finger to her lips.

“Not here!” she hissed. 

She led them into an elevator, pushed the close doors button, but didn’t choose a floor. She kept her eye on the door, then finally started talking.

“Okay. My parents work for Quinn Worldwide. Yeah, that Quinn. Ian Quinn. The one who did all that really dangerous stuff with Gravitonium a couple of years ago. I read the file S.H.I.E.L.D. leaked. The one he paid to have disappear. Quinn’s goons are using this party as a cover for some sort of trade-off for…something. Something really dangerous and probably illegal, and I have no idea what it is. It doesn’t matter, because people like that never have good intentions. My parents are good people. They don’t know who their employers really are or what they do, I promise. But we gotta stop this thing. I’ve contacted a small pocket of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents — they know what to do with this sort of thing — and we can hand it off to them. But we gotta cause a distraction. Peter?”

“So I’ve gotta swing by in my suit and steal it?”

“No, you just need to swing by in your suit and get the guards away from it. Ned and I will steal it.”

“Uh, what?”

“Yes, Ned. We’re gonna commit larceny. It’s for a good cause.”

Ned sighed. “Okay. But if we get caught, I get to taze someone.”

“Deal,” M.J. said immediately.

“So when is this all going down?” Peter asked. 

M.J. checked her watch. “Two minutes. Get the suit on and go. They should all be in apartment 616. Crash through the window and don’t get shot. Run through the room, out the door and lead the goons away from there. Then Ned and I will enter, nab it, and GTFO. Got it?”

“GTFO has exactly the same amount of syllables as ‘get the fuck out.’”

“Shut up Ned. Peter, go! Now!”

 

 

Peter ran out of the elevator with M.J. and Ned and into the street. He ducked around the corner so nobody could see him, yanked off his shirt and popped a couple buttons, (damnit, May was gonna kill him) tossed his slacks and boots into a pile, then shot up a web-grappling-hook. He’d never actually had to use it before, and his arm felt like it was being pulled out of its socket. 

He wasn’t even sure where the apartment was, other than that it was on the sixth floor. He counted windows till he got to the sixth layer up and crawled along, peeking into windows and getting an eyeful of old man ass, and, weirdly enough, saw some meditating kid surrounded by pomegranate seeds. He finally found the one apartment with blackout curtains and the faint sound of loudly arguing men and guessed it was the one. 

Here goes… He thought, took a deep breath, and smashed through the window. Instant chaos. The men with all the guns and stuff started yelling obscenities and opened fire. He ducked and rolled so he wouldn’t get shot, and while he did scratch up his back like you wouldn’t believe, Peter didn’t feel any bullets pierce his skin. He ripped the black fabric off of himself and bolted for the exit in a zigzag pattern. At least he distracted them. 

Peter rammed through the door and felt it splinter — he didn’t know he could do that! He saw M.J. and Ned on one side of the hallway, so he dashed the other way. He ducked through the corridors and started banging on every door he passed. Soon people were walking out of their apartments, confused, and the thugs had to push them out of their way to get to him. Finally, they managed to corner Peter against a window, and with a grin, one of them asked;

“Any last words, you little pain in the arse?”

“Yep. I can jump, dipshits.”

 

After Peter’s spectacular distraction, M.J. and Ned were able to easily sneak into the apartment and grab the box of…whatever it was. That was as far as they got, though, because there were still three guards left in the room. 

Fuck.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Arson,” M.J. said.

The main guy looked confused. 

“No, arson is where you set something on fire. You’re looking for- AHHHHHHHHHHHH”

Fire danced in his sunglasses and he dropped his gun as M.J. literally started breathing fire at him. In his defense, it was pretty scary. His buddies scattered and, as M.J. had so eloquently put it earlier, GTFO.

Ned raised an eyebrow. “Neat trick.”

“Thanks. I had Peter rig it up in Shop.” 

She spat out a device that looked kind of like a retainer and slipped it into her purse. 

“Now let's get this thing and go. The team will be waiting for it down the block. Where’d Peter go?”

“I think I heard him crash out the window on the other side of the building.”

“Then he’ll be waiting with May.” M.J. touched her ear then muttered, “We got it. Ned and I are gonna lug this thing out and drop it off. Yes, we’re fine.”

Surprisingly enough, it was really easy to get away with carrying a giant, heavy, black case through a crowd of slightly tipsy businesspeople. One person asked what it was, but M.J. just said it was a weird fridge they were moving, and they actually got a bunch of people to find them a trolley. The thing was six by eight and sleek with no visible door or any way to open it, but all Ned had to do was roll his eyes and sigh, “rich people, am I right?” and boom — instant sympathy. They finally got the package out the door and out onto the street. Nobody even noticed the two gaping holes in the windows on the other side of the building. Ned would have been concerned if he wasn’t immensely grateful.

It took about ten minutes for them to find the alleyway where a team of people in suits was waiting. Their leader, a bald man with unnerving eyes, smiled as soon as they walked in. Oddly enough, he didn’t question the fact that they were teenagers, nor seemed to have any problem with adolescents bringing him his stuff. 

“Uh. Hi. We got the thing,” M.J. said.

“Excellent,” said the bald guy. 

“If you don’t mind us asking, what is it, exactly?”

“I’ll show you.” Bald dude pressed a few invisible buttons on the Thingamajig, and the case fell apart. Inside the box was…a white rock in a glass case.

“Wha—? That’s it?” cried Ned indignantly.

Bald guy smirked. “Wait a few seconds.” 

Ned rolled his eyes. Then did a double take when the rock just… dissolved. The thing lapped up against the walls of its cage then reformed. Like nothing had happened at all.

“Holy…”

“Now, I’m afraid we have to go. The window will open again in exactly twenty-four hours.”

“What is this thing? Who are you guys? Are you really with S.H.I.E.L.D.?” M.J. asked.

“This is the White Monument. I am Enoch. It was nice to meet you. Now, M.J., your parents will start to wonder where you are. I would recommend texting them and asking to go home with Ned and Peter. Don’t worry about those thugs, they won’t find you. Ta ta.”

Ned just stood there, slack-jawed. M.J. pulled him out of there and broke into a run. She would later say it was because she had to get back to her parents — which would be a total lie — because she just wanted to get outta there.

Because she had never told him their names.

Enoch was right, though. Her parents were looking for her, but they let her go home with Peter, and the thugs never found her. A relief, because she really was worried about the long-term effects of doing this whole mission. May lectured the three of them about how dangerous this had been, but didn’t ask them to stop. Because they wouldn’t. Peter was a hero. He would do it because it was the right thing. Ned was pretty much the same way, even if he couldn’t jump out of buildings, or stop runaway trains.

So why was she doing this? She was a lot more cynical than the two of them. 

Maybe they were rubbing off on her. 

Or maybe she just really liked breathing fire. 

Or maybe it was a little bit of both.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a normal night. Patrol as usual. Peter had finished all his homework, for once, and there was still half an hour until his curfew. He was swinging through the city, half wishing he could take off his mask so he could feel the breeze through his hair, enjoying the thrill every time he dropped down in his swing, or turned a corner, or released a new web. 

 

Man, he loved his job.

 

“ —  _ Shut up! I don’t care about your precious car” _

 

“ _ Honey, stop! You're hurting me. Please — ” _

 

Peter let out a web, turning the corner to go back around, following the familiar sound of danger. There was the sound of a fist hitting flesh, a sound which Peter was well accustomed to by now. He pushed himself to go faster, urging the laws of physics to somehow bend to his advantage.

 

Danger took him to the parking lot of his local Walgreens. It was late enough that there weren't many people or cars, so it was easy enough to spot where the trouble was. 

 

Peter landed smoothly on the hood of the couple's car. He'd made progress from when he first started — the first time he did that he'd left a massive dent. And the second and third times. He was lucky they'd at least been rich people cars. 

 

“Hey there,” he said, trying to sound as intimidating as possible. “It looks like you're having some problems.”

 

“Why don't you mind your own business?” snarled the man. He was kind of macho looking, very buff, and if Peter was anyone else but Spider-man, he would have been intimidated.

 

He took in the scene. The streetlights cast a weird glow over the parking lot, especially with it having just rained, everything looked slightly shimmery. But the buff man was standing over a woman (his girlfriend? Wife? Peter thought he could see a ring glinting in the light) who was on the wet round, doubled over, holding her cheek. 

 

“I don't think so,” Peter replied, hopping lightly off the hood and between the couple. 

 

Predictably, the man's face screwed up; he was clearly drunk, though, unsteady on his feet, and then his fist flew forward. Peter caught it easily and let himself grip it a little tighter than was typically necessary. 

 

“I said,” Peter spoke through gritted teeth. “I don't think so.” 

 

With his free hand, Peter released enough webbing to stick the guy to his car, before he turned around to face the woman, kneeling down and offering his hand to help her up. 

 

“Ma'am,” he said, keeping his voice carefully gentle. “I'm going to call the police, okay? I'll wait here with you. KAREN, can you call the police, please?”

 

“ _ Certainly, Peter.” _

 

The woman didn't say anything, just nodded and shivered quietly in the cold, her breathing beginning to come out short and shallow. It was understandable, of course, that she'd been panicking. It was one of the aspects of Peter's job which wasn't such a perk, the fact that he'd come to expect these kinds of situation. 

 

Careful to move slowly, Peter reached into his pocket and pulled out a tissue, he always had a pack or two handy, since he knew from experience they were useful. 

 

“Ma'am,” he tried, ignoring the urge to comfort via hugging, and keeping a cautious distance. “Take deep breaths, okay? The police will be coming very soon. Everything is going to be okay. Just breathe. Breathe with me. In for  _ one, two, three _ . And  _ out _ . That's it.”

 

After a few minutes, the woman caught her breath again and stopped shaking enough to accept the tissue, even though she was still crying. 

 

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

 

“It's not a problem, Mrs…”

 

“Mrs. Thompson.”

 

The woman forced a small smile on her face, though it looked eerie with the red mark on her face, the cut lip, the messy hair, the black eye that didn't look new. Even in the half-light of the parking lot, Peter thought she looked a little familiar. But he just couldn't place it. Thompson was a pretty common last name, after all. She had dark skin and was middle-aged, maybe about Aunt May's age, maybe just a few years younger, but not much. As was her husband.

 

“Cool, Mrs. Thompson. And do you have any kids?” he asked, trying to distract her from the whole situation.

 

“I do. I have a son.”

 

“That's great! What’s he like? What does he like doing? Football? Basketball? Music? My aunt was a band when she was a kid, it's where she met my uncle. Personally, I'm super into science — not that I'm still a kid or anything. Because I'm definitely a man. A fully grown man.”

 

“Well, he's very bright. One of the smartest pupils in his class. He deserves so much. And he's a big fan of you, Spider-man.”

 

“Well, I'd love to meet him someday.”

 

The police didn't take too long to arrive, and Peter slipped away to let them handle it. They were the professionals, after all.  And he had a curfew. Still, it was always a bit of a wake-up call saving people who were neither younger than him or too old to defend themselves. People who those his own age were supposed to look up to for help. 

 

* * *

 

“Flash, what’s with your obsession with Spider-man?” said M.J., the corner of her mouth lifting slightly to show her amusement. Because, honestly, the whole thing was ironic as hell. If Flash ever found out the truth, Peter wasn’t sure he could even be mad because of how hilarious it would be. 

 

“What? He has a dope suit, he looks out for the city — he’s a hero and I really respect him.”

 

Today was the day of the US National High-School Academic Decathlon (yeah, the name was long as hell but nobody really said it enough to abbreviate it to anything other than “Decathlon”.) The competition had just finished and they’d brought home the gold, of course, which meant they’d get to go onto the international tournament. For once, Peter had actually managed to be there for it, there had been no nasty surprise situations in need of Spider-man. Which was a good thing, too, not just because he didn’t want to let the team down again and give Flash  _ another  _ thing to say, but because Aunt May had taken time off work to be there in the audience.

 

It was a good day, and now they were getting their belongings back from their hotel to go meet back with their families. It was strangely nice to be excited about normal things.

 

“I don't see why it's so weird,” Flash continued, on a roll now, as he ever was. “If anything it's weirder that the city hasn't given him an award or something—”

 

Flash cut himself off as soon as they reached the foyer, and even though it was nice to hear someone singing his praises  — albeit kind of an out of body experience coming from  _ him —  _ Peter breathed a sigh of relief along with the rest of his classmates. Anything that could quiet the Flash was something to be grateful for, even if it was parents. 

 

And besides, Peter was looking forward to seeing Aunt May again. 

 

“Hey, Aunt May,” Peter greeted, allowing himself to be wrapped up in a tight hug. 

 

“I'm so proud of you! You guys did so well!” Aunt May exclaimed, grinning. “We are so going out to celebrate tonight! Where would you like to eat?”

 

“I don't know. I haven't had time to think about food yet,” Peter answered honestly.

 

“Buffet, then? Bit of everything? I know you have a big appetite now, anyway.”

 

“Sounds good. Hey, can we invite Ned and M.J.'s families?”

 

“Of course, Peter. Text ‘em for me, wouldja?.”

 

So yeah, things were good and, to everyone's surprise, nobody was in danger. It was nice. Besides, Peter reasoned to himself, this wasn't his neighborhood anyway. It wasn't even New York, let alone Queens. Peter scanned the hotel foyer to see if his friends were still around with their families. He spotted them across the room, Ned's parents chatting happily away with Mr. Harrington, and M.J. teasing her little brother. 

 

He started to tug Aunt May towards them.

 

“ _ What?” _ Flash's voice resounded across the room, even though it was busy. Trust him to be louder than everybody else in the room. 

 

But there was a strange tremble in his voice — strange because Peter didn't think he'd ever heard Flash Thompson scared before. In fact, he was pretty sure he had never heard Flash Thompson be anything other than nauseatingly narcissistic. 

 

Against his better judgment, Peter focused his hearing to listen in, keeping his back deliberately turned. 

 

“Mom, what do you mean he's home?” Flash was saying, his voice hushed now. “I thought you said  _ Spider-man helped _ . I thought he was gone now.”

 

At the mention of himself, Peter whipped around to look, and— 

 

Huh.

 

“Honey, I'm so sorry. The police said they just didn't have enough incriminating evidence.”

 

“No, it's not your fault, mom. It's just not  _ fair.  _ I mean, what more do they need? What are we gonna do, mom?”

 

“I… I don't know.”

 

Peter swallowed and looked away again. Aunt May was busy waving Ned and M.J.’s families over. He forced himself to take a breath. So Flash's mother had been  _ that _ Mrs. Thompson. The one he'd saved.

 

Suddenly Peter didn't feel so much like celebrating anymore. 

* * *

  
  


God dammit. He really hated this part of the job. Peter usually loved being Spider-Man. He liked swinging around and rescuing people from cartoonish baddies. He didn’t like this. This was messy and scary and human. 

 

He had to help. He wasn’t gonna sit here and pretend like he didn’t hear it. Peter sighed and pushed his plate away. He tapped M.J. on the shoulder. 

“Dude, I gotta go. Cover for me. Our furry little problem just got a lot hairier.”

 

“No need. Hey Dad! Mom! Ned and Peter and I are gonna go wander off and cause trouble. We have our phones and everything.”

 

“Sure honey! Don’t go too far, and be back in half an hour.”

 

M.J. smirked at Peter. He glared at her, but grabbed his coat and followed her and Ned out the door. 

 

“You guys aren’t super-heroes. You can’t come with me.” He said as they filed out onto the sidewalk. “Plus it’s a really delicate situation. I don’t want you guys getting any more involved than you already are.”

 

“Flash’s dad is back in town, isn’t he?”

 

“How’d you know that, M.J.?”

 

“Flash and I used to hang before he became such a douchebag. He’s an asshole, but nobody deserves that.”

 

“This has been going on for a while then?”

 

“Yeah. A total failure of the justice system. He’s a cop, so none of his buddies take the complaints seriously, and after his mom tried to divorce him, they’ve been flat-out malicious.”

 

“Jeez.”

 

“Yep.”

 

Then Ned finally spoke up. “So what’s the plan? Go to Flash’s house and beat his dad up? Dude the police are never gonna work with you again, and might actually start to actively hunt you down! You gotta be smart about this. Do you still have Baby Monitor Protocol activated?”

 

“Yeah! May won’t let Mr. Stark see any of it unless she shares it with him though.”

 

“Can you access the footage? Like from a specific date?”

 

“Of course! Why?”

 

M.J. seemed to know where this was going. “Could you get it to Ms. Thompson? If she has videographic proof, she could use it to testify if she wants. Plus I bet she’d feel a lot safer doing so if she knew a certain wall-crawling menace was looking out for her. Maybe you could give her your number if she needs help?”

 

“Dude, I have an SMS number that I was thinking about using as Spidey. I could pass the video and my number off to Flash, and he and his mom could decide what to do with it.”

 

Ned nodded. “Thank you. You guys are finally using your heads and not M.J.’s ax.”

 

“You have an ax?”

 

“What kind of a woman doesn’t have an ax?” Ned fist-bumped M.J. then turned to Peter. 

 

“It’s been about ten minutes since we left. Wanna get back inside before our food gets cold?”

 

Peter nodded. “Yeah. Wait, where are we?”

 

M.J. looked around at all of the street signs. “Oh shit. I have no clue. I guess we really did wander off. Can you use your Spidey-Sense to get us back?”

 

“That is so not how it works.”

 

* * *

  
  
  


Next Monday, Flash yanked his locker open. Inside of it was a note and a paper bag taped to the divider. He did a double take and looked around the halls. Nobody seemed to be doing anything suspicious. Who the fuck broke into his locker? He sighed and opened the bag, half expecting a weird bug or something equally gross. Nope. A flash drive. It looked like something you’d get at an office store. He shrugged and pocketed it to check out after class. He unstuck the note and read it silently. 

 

_ Hi Flash. _

_ It’s your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. The footage on the drive is from my suit, when I rescued your mom a couple of weeks ago. If you want to take it to court, I hope this will help. On the back is my number, a domestic abuse hotline, and the address and directions to a few different shelters. If you are worried for your safety, I can escort you there myself, or if need be, web your father up like a turkey and drop him off in Texas. I can get to your place from mine in about three and a half minutes. Stay safe.  _

  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's a two-parter, we'll meet Shuri, some of the Avengers and a few fun surprise characters in this arc. Hope you enjoy, please comment and kudos if you do!

“...anyways, that’s how I almost died chasing a buttered gecko.”

Tony blinked. “Jesus Christ kid, I leave you alone for a week and you jump into traffic for some Bulgarian nun’s mascot, wreak havoc with international relations after punching out the Sultan of Brunei, not that I’m complaining, I would have done the same thing, and get yourself shot at and cause some serious property damage stealing a rock from ...Quinn Worldwide? Never mind, those guys are bad news, you did good. I wouldn’t trust them with a pair of safety scissors. Anything else?” Tony read through his notes with the ugliest reading glasses Peter had ever seen in his life perched on his nose.

“I went viral for chasing a herd of bigots with the suit on and wearing a bi pride flag like a cape, with Bye Bye Bye blasting out of my speakers. This one photo went everywhere. It was like that picture of the boy pestering this girl with a trumpet. A couple of people are selling mouse pads and T-shirts with it. M.J. bought me a coffee mug.”

“Oh, I heard. You know, I can’t physically high-five you through the camera, because, video chat and all, but if I could I would.”

“Thanks, Mr. Stark.”

“It’s Tony. Now, are you free over the next weekend? The Avengers are going to a base in... well I can’t tell you, but it’s a base, to negotiate some tech trade-offs with other super-peeps. It’ll be fun, you’ll get an upgrade, and I heard the Black Panther has a sibling around your age, you’ll make a friend.”

“I’m sixteen Mr. Stark. You can’t just pair me off with other kids and expect us to entertain each other. But I will ask Aunt May. I don’t have anything planned, but she’s still wary of surprise trips to other continents after she learned about that airport fight you took me to.”

Tony sighed. “Not my finest moment. Uh, Barnes is currently receiving therapy to undo all that brainwashing, and Rogers— That’s Captain America —and I aren’t quite on speaking terms but we are still fighting bad guys together. He and the rest of the other team are gonna be there. After the Accords were dissolved, the team mostly came back together. Still pretty rocky though.”

Peter winced. “Friendship drama huh?”

“Don’t call it that. This was not just—“

Peter started humming the ‘My Little Pony’ theme song.

“Hey! Stop that. This is serious.”

Peter raised an eyebrow.

“How come everyone can do that except me?” Tony made a couple of truly pathetic attempts at raising a single eyebrow before giving up. “Alright kid, I’ve got some Iron Man stuff to do. We’ll chat later.”

Somewhere in the background, Peter heard some guy yell “No he doesn’t. It’s movie night. We’re watching Smurfs 2”

“Shaddup Rhodey.” With that, Tony ended the Skype call and Peter was left alone, dangling upside down on top of the Empire State Building.

He was hanging by his knees while scrolling through his two different social media sets (one for Spidey, and one for him) and almost dropped his phone when Aunt May called and immediately started screaming.

“You get your Bug-Boy-Butt down from there before I have a heart attack! Right now!”

“You know, maybe startling me while I’m about a thousand feet off the ground isn’t the greatest idea? How’d you even know where I am?”

“Stark installed a thing in your suit that alerts me when you go stupid distances up and stuff like that. You’re also being live-streamed by… eight people? Now it’s nine. Get down. It’s dinner time.”

 

“So Stark invited you on another ‘trip?’ Who are you fighting? Why? Are you sure you know both sides? Because that Sokovia thing? That could’ve exposed you to the world, and you aren’t ready for that.”

Peter speared a ravioli with a fork and pointed it at May. “I’m not fighting people. It’s not that kind of superhero thing. I’m meeting some other superheroes to exchange tech and stuff. It’s kinda like a meet and greet. It’ll be fun. I don’t have any homework.”

“Fine. But I’m coming too. To supervise.”

“No, you aren’t. You have a shift next Saturday.”

“What, am I supposed to just let you go off alone to do God-knows-what, God-knows-where?”

“Stark wouldn’t just leave me in a Walmart parking lot. If you’re so worried about me going off without anyone to keep me from doing dumb stuff, let me take Ned along too. We can tell his parents it’s a trip down to a lake in New Jersey.”

May scoffed. “Oh that was one time. And Ned is worse than you in that respect. Take M.J. Those parents of hers are the most oblivious little shits I’ve ever seen. And unlike you, she doesn’t think it’s a great idea to catch a live goose and set it loose in the apartment. I’m still finding feathers in between the sofa cushions.”

“It was one time! That goose ate a data chip with information that I needed to take down a corrupt insurance company that was stiffing its customers! People were dying because they couldn’t afford medical care!”

“Then take it down to Stark Industries. Or Delmars, and bring home goose-steak!”

“First of all, what would I tell Tony, ‘Oh hi Mr. Stark, here’s a wild animal that ruined my mission, can you take care of it until it shits out a microchip?’ Also, I’m not going to bring a living creature to a shop and ask them to kill it and fish a tiny little circuit board out of its guts. But I will bring M.J. along. Tony should be fine with it since you won’t let me go otherwise. And you’re right, her parents are super gullible. Her mom once caught me half out of the suit and asked me if I did cosplay. I have no idea how M.J. is as smart as she is with those guys raising her. Let me just text her.”

“You’re just going to text her to see if she wants to sneak out, meet with a group of extremely dangerous people to exchange extremely dangerous tech at a moment’s notice?”

Peter put his phone down. “She said yes.”

“Figures.”

 

—————————————————

“Ok M.J., this is Thor, he has arms of steel and is the god of …thunder? I think? He’s hot and can shoot lightning bolts at people. I think that’s it. That’s all the current Avengers. Any questions? Comments? Yes, I made a PowerPoint presentation on all of them a couple of months ago for fun.”

“Yeah. I already knew all of this stuff. KAREN sent me a pamphlet. But it was cute watching you geek out over the legendary Captain America. I’m totally calling him Mr. Rogers though.”

“He’s not gonna get the reference. And why didn’t you tell me you knew all of this stuff?”

“Cuz a nerdy Parker is an adorable Parker. Now I need to know what kind of stuff to bring. We’re going to a secret base, are we staying in a hotel? Do they have rooms there for us?”

Peter blushed, but answered, “Yeah, they do. I did some research, by which I mean I had Ned hack into Tony’s suit footage and got a pretty good idea of what it looks like. It’s really cool and has an amazing lab. You’ll like it. Plus we aren’t flying commercial, so yes, you can bring your knife collection to show to Black Widow.”

“Yes!”

“It’s kind of like a superhero convention, we’ll exchange tech and strategy, and a ton of non-Avengers will be there. Not everyone there is superpowered, and there are a ton of sidekicks there too. Not that you’re a sidekick, per se, but I need an excuse to get you in there, and that’s the most convenient one.”

“I thought I was your common-sense dispenser.”

“That’s exactly what sidekicks are.”

“...That checks out. And Stark is ok with me coming? He’s never actually met me, and suddenly I’m your sidekick?”

“Trust me, he knows your blood type, genealogy, grade point average, class schedule and how you like your eggs.”

“Which is…?”

“Over hard.”

M.J. whistled. “Damn, he’s good.”

“...Anyways, the plane leaves at nine-thirty tonight. You’re sure that your parents are cool with this? What did you tell them?”

“It’s an AcaDec team-building trip to Michigan lake. I won’t have great cell service, so they’ll understand if I don’t answer the phone.”

“They bought that?”

“In their defense, I had Ned rig up a phony permission slip. That kid is crazy good at this. He’s gonna rule the world someday, and nobody'll have any idea.”

“Remind me to never cross him.”

“Reminder set. I’m all packed, and I brought my gauntlets for Quake to sign if we see her.”

“Isn’t she on the run from the law?”

“The Winter Fricking Soldier is gonna be there! Plus I’m sure Stark don’t care as long as they can get a good read on her powers and stuff. Isn’t that what those guys do?”

“Kind of. It’s more complicated than that. But who knows, maybe. I heard a rumor that Daredevil and his crew might make an appearance. Ready to go? We’re leaving to the Tower in twenty minutes.”

“Yep. I got my bag, my phone, my sword, and this really good book. All set.”

Exactly twenty minutes later, May popped her head in the door and motioned for the two of them to look up from their phones and follow her into the living room with one finger over her lips. They tripped out and exchanged a confused glance before May finally pointed through the peephole and M.J. looked through, fully prepared to book it. “It’s Thor.” She hissed and looked through again. Peter ran and pushed M.J. out of the way. She was right, and he knew it for sure when Thor pounded on the door again and he banged his eye.

“Ow,” He said as he threw open the door. “Uh hi man. Bro. Dude. You have a lot of muscles. We were just talking about you. You must be here to pick us up. M.J. and I will go get our stuff and then come back and sit in the same car with you. I’m gonna try and shut up, but I can’t guarantee that ever happening. Be right back. Come along M.J..”

M.J. followed Peter back to his bedroom snickering. “Dude, that was worse than Liz. How are you this bad with pretty people.”

“Like you’re any better. You tried to flirt with Liz too but you just got yourself invited to every sleepover for the rest of her life. You got Galentine’d so hard Leslie’s impressed.”

“Why can’t you be this good at talking when he’s in the room? You’re just embarrassing yourself.”

“I know. I know exactly how stupid every word out of my mouth sounds, and yet…” He gestured his arms around grandly and grabbed his and M.J.’s bags and left. “Let’s get this over with.”


	5. Chapter 5

Thor looked like he wanted to make small talk. Naturally, this would be a disaster. M.J. was wearing her earbuds without music in and played on her phone in an attempt to look busy and avoid whatever awkwardness the two biggest dumbasses in the multiverse would cook up together while cooped up in a limousine. The driver was a gruff looking bald guy who looked thoroughly done with their shit, and both Peter and a Norse god rummaging through his mini fridge was clearly exacerbating the situation. She sent a quick text to Peter reminding him to keep his mouth shut. He certainly needed it before he asked about Loki and the horse part of his mythology. Unfortunately, his phone dinged really loudly and Thor’s face lit up in a way that immediately made M.J. nervous. 

“Is that a Midgardian communications device? I have one of those too! I don’t know quite how to use them, could you show me, Man of Spiders?” M.J. snorted. 

 

“Uh, it’s Spider-Man, but you can just call me Peter. Here, I’ll show you how to turn it on and text and stuff.”

 

Peter showed Thor around his StarkPhone while M.J. watched with apprehension for Thor to crush it or electrocute Peter or something, but surprisingly enough, he was pretty good with tech for a guy like him. Finally, he was able to make a group chat with him, Tony and Bruce all by himself.

 

“So what are these tiny faces on the keys?”

 

“Those are called emojis. Basically you send them to show how you feel, usually accompanying a message, but sometimes you just use them as a reaction.”

 

“But some of these are just pictures? Do you use a tiny image of an ...apple as a reaction? Is that one of your Earth ‘memes’?”

 

“Uh no. You just use them to refer to objects most of the time.” 

 

“Fascinating.” Thor’s stomach rumbled loudly. He gave an embarrassed smile. “Your human snacks are delicious, but not quite substantial. I will text ahead and ask for a meal before we go. I would love to sample some of your Midgardian crops. There are so many different ones that we don’t have back home.”

 

“Cool.”

 

About three seconds later, Thor’s phone started ringing. Peter showed him how to answer it, and he held it to his ear before holding it out to Peter. Peter listened for a minute and his ears started burning and he started frantically apologizing. 

 

“Dr. Banner, I am so sorry, I just taught him how emojis worked, I didn’t think that he would… Oh my god, really? Hold up, Tony’s calling too, let me put you on hold.”

 

There it was. What did those idiots do now? M.J. snatched the phone out of Peter’s hand. “M.J. here. What’s up?”

 

“This is Tony Stark. Bruce and I just got some explicit texts from Thor. Given that Thor has no idea how a cell phone works, I’m calling shenanigans. Is this your idea of a joke?”

 

“What are you talking about? Peter was just teaching him how to text, and he’s too much of a goody-two-shoes to try and embarrass his celebrity crush like that. What did he send?”

 

“I’m reading this off of my phone, thank god Pep just thought it was funny. He said that he wants to try large amounts of our Earth eggplant emoji, peach emoji, cucumber emoji, winky face. Did you put him up to this?”

 

“I just picked the coolest looking of your food-pictures. Are those not actually foods?”

 

M.J. face-palmed. “Dammit man. Uh, this was totally innocent. Thor just has a propensity for picking the worst combination of emoticons. He clearly had no idea what the connotations would be. We’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again. Sorry.” M.J. hung up, and turned to Peter. “Hold on to this until we can have someone else teach him the etiquette behind technology.”

 

“Will do.” Peter pocketed the phone. 

 

The bald guy tilted his mirror to face them. “We’re here.”

 

M.J. looked out the window. They were parked right outside Stark Tower. She’d only been here once, on a field trip where most of the available Avengers showed up specifically to tease Peter, and while she knew where the front doors and elevator was, that was pretty much the extent of her knowledge about the place. She walked in and was immediately ambushed by interns trying to show her around.

 

“Alfred, Lexie, buzz off. She isn’t a tourist, she’s with me.”

 

“Thanks Peter. But I can handle it. And Lexie. And Alfred. Why are the interns here all really cute?”

 

“I’ve been trying to figure that out since day one. We go this way, those elevators aren’t for employees.”

 

“The Avengers take the same elevator as the workers?”

 

“Yeah. On my first day here, I dropped a crate on the Black Widow’s boot. She threatened to dismember me in Romanian. It was awesome.”

 

“Lucky. Where is everyone? Is there like a conference room where they meet?”

 

“They all have rooms at the Tower, even the ones who went rogue. But they mostly just hang out in their safe-houses when they aren’t meeting up for stuff like this. Top floor please, FRIDAY!”

 

“What?”

 

Somehow, without pressing any buttons, the elevator starting zooming up. 

 

“Is this thing voice-activated?”

 

“It is for the Avengers, Happy Hogan and Tony’s family and friends. FRIDAY is Tony’s KAREN.”

 

“Did you name the AI Stark put in your suit after a character from Spongebob?”

 

“Oh look, we’re here.”

 

As they stepped out of the elevator, Thor ran out first and bear-hugged some guy tinkering with something on the table the room was centered around. It was weird and sleek and see-through and looked easily breakable. The table, not the dude. The dude himself looked vaguely familiar.

 

“Hey Dr. Banner.”

 

“It’s Bruce.”

 

It clicked, and M.J. found her inner fangirl rise to the occasion.

 

“Holy fuckcakes are you—?”

 

“Whoa, uh language. But yeah, I turn into an angry green rage monster.”

 

“No, you’re Bruce Banner!”

 

“What?”

 

“Dude, the most renowned scientist of our generation is standing right in front of us! Peter, why aren’t you freaking out right now? Ned isn’t gonna believe this. Sir, can I get a selfie? It would be really hard to explain to my parents how I met you on a trip to Michigan, but that’s Future M.J.’s problem.”

 

“Um sure.”

 

M.J. got her selfie and sent it to Ned as fast as she could type. Almost instantaneously, her phone was blown up with star-struck texts from Ned. 

 

_ Mj _

 

_ HOW _

 

_ WHAT? _

 

_ AHHHHHHH _

 

_ Jfc you got a picture with him? He knows you exist? So f-ing jealous _

 

She put her phone away and cleared her throat. “Sorry it’s just, after you left, and the world thought you died, all of your papers blew up more than they already did and apparently, you did a ton of great stuff. Your picture is up on my science classroom wall. You are really, like, really famous, especially among young people.”

 

“Huh. That’s cool, I guess. Uh, sorry, Stark will be here in like thirty seconds, he just had to do something.”

 

Then, something else clicked. “You’re the Dr. Banner we taught Thor how to sexually harass.”

 

“Yeah. That was weird. Please check that stuff before you let him send it.”

 

“Seconded.”

 

“Thirded”

 

“Fourthed.”

 

Three people entered the room. One, M.J. recognized vaguely from magazine covers and news stories as uh… Hawkeye? The bow and arrow guy.  There was also a blonde lady who looked kinda like the glowing orange lady Peter had told her about and… Oh. My. God. Was that War Machine?

 

“Hey Carol. Rhodey. Clint.”

 

Blonde Lady must be Carol. Hawkeye nodded when Peter said ‘Clint.’ She knew War Machine was Colonel James “Rhodey” Rhodes. She had a poster. 

 

“Hi. I’m M.J. Don’t try to get Peter to do stupid stuff.”

 

“Oh are you his sidekick?” War Machine asked. Holy crap. War Machine was talking to her. Play it cool M.J.. You gotta stay cool or Peter will never let you live it down.

 

“Chaperone.” Both Peter and M.J. said at the same time.

 

“Same difference,” said Carol. “I’m Carol Danvers, or Captain Mar-Vel. This is Rhodey, Stark’s sidekick, and that’s Hawkeye. You can call him Clint or Get Out Of The Vents. It’s practically his name by now.”

 

“Listen, Marvel, just because the vents are comfy—”

 

“It’s ‘Mar-Vel’”

 

Rhodey rolled his eyes. “Those two have been going at it since I stole Clint’s takeout and blamed it on Carol. They’re not gonna stop bickering until someone comes along and slaps them or—”

 

“BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA” 

 

“—that happens.”

 

Stark sure knew how to make an entrance. With a ratty band t-shirt and a train horn he had connected to the solo Iron Man gauntlet he was wearing, he had all eyes on him. 

 

“That’s better.”

 

M.J. rubbed her poor, wounded ears. 

 

“Alright, my minions, the other Avengers are in the car, all ready to go to the airport like good children. Get going.”

 

Finally, he seemed to notice her.

 

“...Wait, why is there a tiny human in our midst? Another one, I mean. Are they multiplying?”

 

M.J. rolled her eyes. “I’m here to make sure you guys don’t get Peter into trouble. You said I could come. Also, who are you calling tiny? You’re like, an inch shorter than me.”

 

“Ooooooh” she heard faintly from the back. Stark glared at them, then shrugged.

 

“I have the memory of a goldfish with Alzheimer’s. You’re probably right. Whatever, you couldn’t cause too much trouble on your own. C’mon, let’s get to the airport before our pilot gets impatient.”

  
  
  
  


The flight to The Secret Base was the longest she’d taken in her life. She really wanted Peter to introduce her to the others, especially the brunette lady with the hands that seemed to glow red, but he fell asleep immediately on the surprisingly comfortable chairs of the private plane and she had to be content with staring at them slack jawed through a hole she cut in her newspaper. There was Captain America, arguing with Natasha Romanoff over armrest space and it was the hottest thing she had ever seen. Thor was having a debate with Dr. Banner about weird inter dimensional science junk that she could make neither heads nor tails of and loved it. Clint and Falcon were having a rapidly paced discussion of something in sign-language as apparently the super-hearing aids Stark made him messed with the planes instruments. She took ASL back in freshman year, but unless Clint was repeatedly signing something to the effects of “on your left” and it was annoying Falcon, she was junk at it. She saw Carol cook a slice of bread with hand-fire before trying to eat it, and snickered when she accidentally set the carpet on fire and had to get a weird red guy named Vision to stomp it out. She tried not to blatantly stare, but apparently she sucked at that too because after about ten minutes of studying them, Rhodey finally hissed over at her. “Hey kid, Stark’s finally asleep, what say we draw some stuff on his face in sharpie?”

 

“Will he be mad?” She didn’t want to get in trouble, but there was no way she would miss War Machine actually thinking she was cool. She had to stop saying “cool.” It wasn’t cool.

 

“Probably, especially since we are heading into a sensitive diplomatic situation where we’ll have to forge relationships with other Enhanced people and network with other superheroes.”

 

MJ had an internal debate for about half a second. 

 

“I’m in. Hand me a marker.”

 

After everyone had been debriefed on the fact that they weren’t supposed to point out the creatively drawn handlebar mustache on Tony’s face, the trip mostly quieted down. Clint bribed M.J. with chocolate to stick her foot out and trip Carol on her way to the bathroom, but that was pretty much it.

 

She got settled in playing Rummy with Falcon, who was really, really bad at it and finally fell asleep herself after cleaning him out of all of his Jolly Ranchers. Nobody drew anything on her face though, she checked, and was fully prepared to pull out Anaklusmos on anyone who tried anything. 

 

She was slightly disoriented though when they did wake her up and pulled her out of the jet and almost fell off the side of the ramp when they were Hero Walking out.  Peter caught her before she actually got seriously hurt though. It was a shame, because she didn’t actually get to see the looks on the government agents faces firsthand when they saw the… graffiti on Stark’s. For whatever reason, they ignored it, and pretended nothing was out of the usual. This of course said a lot about Stark’s eccentric reputation.

 

“Hey guys, I’m Shuri. My brother, the Black Panther and the coolest superhero ever, is inside. I’m the tech person, if you want some cool stuff, you ask me. No, I don’t know where we are either, because nobody here tells me anything. No, I’m not salty about it, but I would like to—” 

 

_ Oh no _ . Shuri was cute. 

 

She tugged on Peter’s elbow and glanced back at Shuri. He rolled his eyes. “If you screw up relations between the Avengers and all of the other powered people by clumsily flirting with their sisters, I will tell everyone at school that you’re a SuperWhoLock.”

 

“I won’t do it clumsily... I hope. And I will bribe Ned with chocolate to stab you in your sleep if you even think about—

 

“Oh hi! Uh, I’m Peter — I mean —  I’m  _ not Peter _ . I can’t remember anything about my identity right now. I’m fairly sure I’m a teenager though. I’m going to go splash water on my face. Please don’t judge me based off of this extremely painful interaction. It’s been a long day.”

 

Peter looked confused for a second before a wide grin spread across his face and he spun on his heel and saw Shuri standing behind him with a concerned look on her face. “Hello. I’m Spidey, as you probably know. This is M.J.. It’s very nice to meet you. I’m moderately sure she’ll pull herself together, she’s just starstruck by all of the supers here. Want to show her around?”

 

Shuri pushed past Peter and pulled a mini flashlight out of some unseen pocket and shined it directly into M.J.’s eyes.

 

“Hey! Quit it.”

 

“I was going to tell you to hurry up and head in, so we can get to work with all the stuff we gotta do before we start discussing team-ups, but it’s seven in the morning. How long has she been acting like this? Has she had any recent head trauma?” Peter sighed. 

 

“She isn’t brain damaged, she’s just awkward.”

 

Shuri ignored him. 

 

“M.J., could you please recite something? Pledge of Allegiance? Don’t all Americans know it?”

 

“I haven’t recited it since fifth grade. It’s been years. I refused to because it promoted blind nationalism and all that jazz.”

 

Shuri sighed in relief. “Ok, well you seem to be fine, but I still want to run some tests. Your pupils are weirdly dilated, given the nature of our interaction. Spider-Boy, please follow your friends.”

 

“Sure. M.J., I’ll see you in a bit. Shuri, please run lots and lots of tests. I won’t wait up.”

 

M.J. rolled her eyes. She should have seen this coming. Oh well. Peter could look after himself for twenty minutes, right? No, she didn’t think so either, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.

 

Shuri pulled her into the weird grey building that looked like it was built to last a siege, through a ton of twisty corridors and into a lab. She closed the door behind her and sighed. 

 

“Listen M.J. Thank you for playing along. I don’t know how to tell you this.”

 

“Wait, tell me what? Playing along?”

 

Shuri nodded. “That was very obviously a ruse to get you alone.” Then her eyes widened. “I don’t mean like that. I just have some world-shattering news for you.”

 

It was gonna be one of those days. 

 

“Ok, well, what is it? Do I have cancer? Is this whole meeting a trap? Has everyone I know and love betrayed me? Am a secretly the heir to the Genovian throne?”

 

“Uh… Am I correct in assuming you are a vegetarian?”

 

“How’d you guess?”

 

“If you had consumed any contaminated seafood products in the last couple of years, you might have gone through Terrigenesis earlier. That has clearly not happened yet, looking at your genetic structure.”

 

“I don’t have superpowers. Are you saying I carry the Inhuman gene? How would you even get this information? You’re my age. Maybe a bit younger. Who told you this? Who tested me?”

 

“I did. I’m the head of pretty much everything science and technology in Wakanda.”

 

“Wow. Pretty and smart. Sorry, that was inappropriate. How did you get my DNA to test it?”

 

“Blood sample…?”

 

“How did you get my blood?”

 

“None of your business.”

 

“...what?”

 

“Ok, it’s totally your business, Stark gave it to me. I lied about it on the chart. I’m not going to tell him.”

 

“How the hell did Stark get my blood?”

 

“I don’t think you are focusing on what’s important here.”

 

“Yeah, I’m gonna be a mutant freak.”

 

“Maybe not. You just have to avoid most aquarian dishes like the plague, and you could probably live a normal life.”

 

“Ok. Uh. Thanks for telling me. And thanks for not telling Stark. I don’t wanna have to deal with him on my ass along with all the homework I have right now. So, what do I need to know about all this?”

 

“I made you a packet. This has all the info you need. You, know, the legal ramifications of being out, what your rights are, all of the weird genetic stuff, and the likelihood that you’ll turn evil.”

 

Welp. She had a type. 

 

“Oh and I can help you go through this. Your friend can’t possibly do anything that stupid in the five minutes we’ve been—“

 

_ *Crash!* _

M.J. winced. “You underestimate him.”

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

“Whatcha reading?”

“Nothing. Go away.” 

“That kind of looks like a legal document.”

“Wait are those the revised Sokovia Accords?”

M.J. turned off her phone and put it away. “Jeez, Ned, why can’t you be a detective like this when we go to escape rooms? That’s when you’re supposed to root out secrets.”

“So you have a secret?”

“Yes, Peter. I’m Daredevil. Now go away. Shuri’s about to call.”

“Who’s Shuri?” Ned asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“M.J.’s crush. We met during that  _ field trip _ a few months ago. Also, I can’t just ‘go away.’ You’re at my house. Beeteedubs, May wants to know if you can stay for dinner. She’s cooking right now, so we should expect the fire alarm in the next five minutes. If anyone else has super-hearing, the ear plugs are on my desk.”

M.J. grabbed a pair and stashed them in her bag. Better safe than sorry. 

“...In the meantime, Peter, M.J., wanna cause trouble?”

“That depends.”

“Duh.”

“You know, that really sums up both of your personalities. What’s the craziest place you’ve gotten on top of as Spider-Man?”

“I once did this death drop off the Empire State Building.”

“I saw that on Insta! It was really cool. Did you see the edit with the screaming goats?”

“Yep. Mr. Stark has a Spidey Social Media tracker, so he sees what I get up to from the eyes of the people. He showed it to the whole team. I have never been as simultaneously proud and embarrassed as I was that day.”

“How much weight can you carry?”

“Uh, I can only keep it up with like three tons, but I can hold heavier stuff in short bursts. Why do you ask?”

“Let’s go web-slinging.” Ned blurted out.

“What? How would we do that?”

“You tie us with your weird web ropes and we swing through the city together and try not to splat.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea. I’ve never done it with two people.”

“Title of your sex tape.”

“Dammit M.J. But that doesn’t mean I’m condoning this idiocy. What if we got hurt?”

“First of all, you really need to learn how to do that with multiple people for rescue situations. Second, M.J., you’re chicken.”

“Am not.”

“Are so.”

“Am not.”

“Knock it off you two. Let’s try this. You’re just lucky I’m not smart enough to just walk away whenever there’s drama at school.”

“I swear to god Peter, I don’t know what that is. Vine means nothing to me. I’m too pretty.”

“Shaddup Ned. Here, put your arms here, let me web you… yeah, just like that. Ok, M.J.? Your turn. Yes, I know it’s like an awkward group hug. Too bad. This is gonna be fun or we’re all gonna die.”

“Win either way.”

“No depression jokes. Those aren’t healthy. You secure?”

“Yep. Could you get our legs too? I don’t want a dislocated shoulder.”

“Sure. Hold still.”

“This is nice.” Ned wiggled himself into a cuddlier position. M.J. followed suit. What? Haven’t you ever had the urge to snuggle your totally platonic best friend?

“You two are a bunch of koalas.”

“You know you love us.”

“Alright. Hold on.” Peter hobbled onto the fire escape and pointed his web shooters up. “Let’s do this.”

* * *

 

“AAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”

“M.J., this is like, the eightieth swing. Why are you screaming again now?”

“Shuri’s calling! Get to solid ground.”

“You have your phone with you? You can hear it while doing this?”

“Well I’m not gonna just leave it somewhere. Put me down before I run out of rings. Now!”

“Ok, ok. Can’t you like, call her back when we aren’t swinging fifty feet up? I think I see a roof I can hit. Sit tight.”

“Hurry!”

“No! I gotta get us there safe.”

“Screw safety!

“Yeah, Peter, screw safety!”

“No double teaming. I feel left out. There! Call her now!”

Peter landed on the roof of a squat building with cat-like grace, before immediately falling on his ass. He shredded the webs so M.J. could reach her back pocket. “How the fuck did that not fall out?”

“I dunno. Shush.”

The call connected. Shuri’s face graced M.J.’s screen like a ray of really pretty sunshine. “Hey Emmie! Just finished Sea of Monsters, and you are so right, I am hooked. But like, the pen-sword got me thinking, and instead of watching TV like a normal kid, I’ve been working on plans for a real life Riptide! Now I’m limited by size, so I couldn’t make a giant one, but I could make a pretty cool short-sword with the nanos Stark gave me. I’ll text you some of the concept art!”

“Oh. My. Goshness. That sounds so freaking cool! You won’t believe where I am right now!”

“Where are you?”

M.J. pointed her phone camera out at the city.”

“How’d you get up there? Is that legal? I don’t know American building ordinances.”

“We don’t either. If we get yelled at we’ll just go.”

“We?”

M.J. showed Shuri who she meant.

“Oh hi guys! I’m Shuri!”

“Hey Shuri. You and I met, but this is Ned, our other best friend.”

“Nice to meet you, Ned! You’re the hacker one, right?”

“Yeah! I hack, Peter punches, and M.J. comes up with cover stories.”

“Those two suck at staying out of trouble. Ned was helping Peter take down Birdman—”

“It’s ‘The Vulture’”

“Ned was helping Peter take down Birdman and the librarian caught him and asked him what he was doing. Instead of saying ‘working on a sociology project on mass incarceration as a tool of fascism’ or even ‘World of Warcraft campaign’ he immediately went for ‘porn.’ Like, c’mon. Even Peter isn’t that bad.”

“Dude, how the hell did you even hear about that. You were in the gym.”

“I have my ways.”

“Wow. Emmie, I was going to… uh… show you some… stuff… but since your friends are here, we can do that sometime else.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to like, interrupt your  _ stuff _ .”

“Shut your mouth before I shut it for you Parker.”

“...Anyway it was super nice to meet you, Shuri. We probably have to get back, because May will kill us if we all disappear, but M.J. can video chat you later after dinner. Don’t break her heart —Ow!”

“Shush. Talk later, Shuri!”

“You two are the human embodiment of the heart-eyes emoji. And ‘Emmie?’ That’s the cutest shit I’ve ever heard! Why can’t we call you Emmie?”

“Because I will vandalize the Spider-Man Wikipedia page if you do. You will go down in history as ‘Spooder-Man.’”

“Noted. Now hop back on my back, koalas. We should get home.”

* * *

 

“So how’s school, Michelle?”

“Uh, I kinda go by M.J.. But school’s great. There hasn’t been an alien terrorist attack in almost a year, so it feels almost normal. I might get a scholarship from NYU, and the weird kid who kept gluing people’s stuff to their tables finally moved away.”

“A scholarship? To NYU? Kid, that’s great! What are you planning on studying?”

“Occupational health. I want to work with OSHA as a safety inspector, and I already have a few internships for training in risk communications and stuff lined up.”

“...that’s a lot more than I knew I was going to do when I was your age. You seem to have this all planned out.”

“My parents being involved in dangerous, illegal stuff and not even knowing it is a great motivator.”

“Oh my god.”

“They work for Quinn Worldwide. They don’t seem to understand what’s fishy about what they’re doing. It sucks. I don’t want them to get hurt, or anyone else to get hurt so I’m gonna be the biggest pain in the ass I can to the corporations doing shi—stuff like this.” 

“Peter always has a bunk bed free, and I have a direct line to Iron Man. Don’t be afraid to ask for help.” M.J. met Aunt May’s gaze and gave a quick smile. 

“...sorry, I don’t mean to ruin the mood. This is really good soup. What’s in it?”

“I work a mean can-opener. I think it’s called Sow-pah dey pesk-a-dow?”

“Sopa de pescado?”

“Yeah? I guess. Do you take Spanish?”

“Frick!”

M.J. frantically checked her arms and legs, but there didn’t seem to be a life-changing cocoon forming around her. She sighed in relief, but spat out the last bit in her mouth into her napkin as discreetly as she could.

“May! She’s a vegetarian! I told you this morning!”

“Listen, I’m so so sorry. Are you ok? I swear I didn’t do this on purpose. Do you have allergies?”

M.J. wasn’t all that religious, but at this moment she was thanking the Lord in all of Her mercy too much to be angry.

“It’s fine. I just had like, a couple bites. Can I have a pb&j or something?”

“Of course, sweetheart. Sit tight, I’ll be right back.”

* * *

 

M.J. tapped the contact on her phone that was four letters and about eight zillion rainbow hearts and waited three rings until <3Shuri<3<3 answered.

“Hey! So I need to talk about my uh… gene problem.”

“Sure Emmie! Why is it so dark over there? Did I screw up the time zones again? I thought it was like, eight o’clock.”

“No, it is. I’m just hiding in my closet, because if my parents hear me talking to you, they’re gonna get weird.”

“Ugh, same. I swooned over a Dora  _ one time  _ and now T’Challa pinches me whenever she’s there in formation. Brothers suck.”

“Anyways, I had a Terrigenesis scare today. I’m fine, but I really don’t want to have to worry about this all the time. Do you have any of your really cool tech that’d work for a permanent solution?”

“Check your desk. I had it delivered while you were away with Ned and Peter. I know your birthday isn’t for another month, but I just couldn’t wait.”

M.J. hopped to her feet and pushed aside clothing to get to the exit. “Ow. Frick.”

“You ok over there, Em?”

“Just stubbed my toe. What’s the package? How’d you get it here? This doesn’t have any stamps.”

“I didn’t send a drone all the way across the Atlantic, breaking  _ so many _ international laws, why do you ask?”

“Before I open this, did you somehow manage to 3-d print the Never Gonna Give You Up music video?”

“...not yet.”

“Ok. Give me a moment.”

M.J. put her phone facing up on the desk while she found a knife to open the box with. About a minute of searching later, she hacked through it as gracefully as she could with a butter knife she swiped from the kitchen.

“Do you like it?”

“Is this an ...earing?” Sure enough, there was what appeared to be a single hoop earring in a tiny jewelry case. M.J. had three others like it.

“It works by keeping tabs on your biology, and y’know, not letting it turn you into Lash.”

“Who’s Lash?”

“Long story. Really, really long story. I met up with Quake. One of her baddies. I don’t want to bore you with science jargon, but you put the earring on and boom, you are immune to shelling as long as you don’t take it off, or get hit by an EMP.”

“...how long did it take you to make this? This is serious stuff. What’re the odds that this is gonna backfire and send me immediately into Terrigenesis?”

“About two years. I started playing with the concept when the first few Inhumans hit the spotlight, but only really started working on it in earnest when the fish oil pill debacle started turning random people.”

“And the odds that this will blow up in my face?”

“Thirteen percent, but my stuff is always super well made. If you don’t want to try it, that’s ok too. I think I can whip up a safer one in six to eight —oh, you’re already putting it in.”

“I don’t seem to be on fire. Step up from the lightsabers at least.”

“You’re never gonna let that one go, will you? I spent months perfecting them and you only lost your hoodie. You should be grateful I fire-extinguishered you.”

“I am extremely allergic to Halon compounds! I had to go to the hospital!”

“My ‘lab’ at your Tower, shoddy as it may be, is fully equipped with all the stuff I needed to treat you! I don’t see why you didn’t just have me help you, instead of running seven blocks. I assumed you were just mad at me.”

“You set me on fire!”

“See, you keep bringing that up! You need to let it go.”

“Babe, you are so lucky you’re cute.”

“You think I’m cute?”

“Yes. You know I do. And I don’t seem to be suffering any immediate side effects, but I also don’t quite know what to measure.”

“You haven’t exploded, right?”

“You’re worse than Peter.”

“Michelle? Who’re you talking to?”

“That’s my mom. Shush.”

“ _ Ok. I’ll whisper _ ”

“Uh, I’m not talking to anyone. It’s just a tv show.”

“What’re you watching?”

“...Kim Possible?”

“Isn’t that a kids show?”

“No. It is a very adulty grown-up show. Lots of guns.”

“Alright sweetie. Just turn it off if it gets too violent.”

“I will Mom. Love you. I’m going to bed, so don’t barge in.”

“Wasn’t planning on it. G’night.”

“ _ Can I talk yet?” _

“Yep. Mom and Alex are gonna turn on one of their grimdark movies with headphones in. The Chitauri could invade again and they wouldn’t notice.”

_ Ding!  _

_ Ding! _

_ Ding! _

“What’s that, Em?”

“Uh, Peter needs my help. Probably needs me to research something to help him beat up an overtly theatrical villain. Let me check.”

“Ooh. Anything I can do?”

“... well, a bunch of hacktivists are threatening to leak this one billionaire’s credit card info unless he stops pumping money into some really bigoted ‘charities’.”

“What’re you gonna do?”

“Uh, Ned is currently pinging their location off my phone so he can order them a pizza on the rich dudes tab.”

“Nice. I gotta go though. Okoye’ll get suspicious if I’m suddenly talking to you all day, instead of actually doing work. Don’t get in too much trouble until I can see you again.”

“No promises.”   
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed it, please leave a kudos and a comment! Thank you!
> 
> <3


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